


Touch

by Nerdylittleangelenthusiast (Anderseeds)



Series: Supernatural Works [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Implied/Referenced) - Freeform, Affectionate Dean Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Cat/Human Hybrids, Light Petting, M/M, Omega Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anderseeds/pseuds/Nerdylittleangelenthusiast
Summary: The hardest part of living with an omega was not the scent, nor the proprietorial urges that rose during ruts: it was the incessant desire to touch. The smell and urges could be dulled through drugs, but that long, wily tail and those two perfect wedges of fur protruding from Castiel’s head were inescapable, ever-present. And as they’d only recently sprouted in response to Castiel’s omega designation finally conquering enough of Castiel's celestial biology to present itself, Dean wasn't afforded the distance he would have had in the past to desensitise himself.Omega's have extra body parts, and Dean really, really wants to touch.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Supernatural Works [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068692
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> For all your catboy Castiel needs. This is very self-indulgent.

The hardest part of living with an omega was not the scent, nor the proprietorial urges that rose during ruts: it was the incessant desire to touch. The smell and urges could be dulled through drugs, but that long, wily tail and those two perfect wedges of fur protruding from Castiel’s head were inescapable, ever-present. And as they’d only recently sprouted in response to Castiel’s omega designation finally conquering enough of Castiel's celestial biology to present itself, Dean wasn't afforded the distance he would have had in the past to desensitise himself.

Sam seemed to be struggling with the same thing, since he periodically glanced over at Castiel, brow furrowed. Even Castiel seemed distracted by them, frequently reaching up to trace his fingers along the smooth fur of his ears and thumbing the base, as though expecting to be able to peel them off. He could try, but they were seamlessly connected to his skull, just another part of him. As was the tail, though it being located at the base of his spine prevented Castiel from fiddling with it as frequently as he did the ears.

It’d always seemed odd to Dean that omegas should look so much like animals. It was alphas, with their drive to form packs, mark territory, and breed that acted the most animalistic among the designations, yet all they had to show for it were some elongated teeth and nails and maybe a little more hair than was normal. Betas were spared any biological changes beyond the standard secondary sex characteristics, but omegas- they were something else, all of them developing ears and tails and a strange, reflective film behind their irises that made them seem too bright, almost luminescent.

Was he jealous? Not exactly. He was happy with the useful features being an Alpha afforded him and probably would have found having a tail and ears more troublesome than anything else. But, fuck, he _really_ wanted to touch those ears, see if the fur on them felt as velvety soft as it looked. It was the same black as the rest of Castiel’s hair, which made the sparsely haired, pink inside of them especially prominent, and Dean wanted to touch that just as badly. There was nothing about those damned little ears that didn’t enthral him. It didn’t help that he’d been noticing captivating details about Castiel long before he’d sprouted extra parts, so he had his pre-existing attraction to contend with on top of everything else.

While Sam seemed able to drag his eyes away, Dean caught himself staring more than a few times. Had he more capacity for shame, he probably would have been embarrassed about it, but his life had provided far too many opportunities to desensitise himself to it. He and his sense of dignity hadn’t been on speaking terms for at least a decade.

But he did glance away, because he was sure Castiel didn’t appreciate being stared at, much less by an alpha- a designation to which he was the prey, much to his chagrin. Unlike he and Sam, unlike humans in general, Castiel wasn’t used to being thrust into that role by the existence of ghouls, demons, ghosts and the like. Even at his weakest, he was still formidable, still an Angel of the Lord, one of the most powerful beings on earth, and now aspects of him had been forced firmly to the bottom of the hierarchy. He’d had a hard enough time dealing with the fact his powers had whittled over the years, and now there were times and situations where his own instincts would rebel against him, weaken him further. As much as Dean had tried to discourage it, he knew how much of Cas’ self-worth was tied up in how useful he could be to them.

Beyond procuring what little was on the market to inhibit aspects of one’s designation, there wasn’t much one could do about it. If you didn’t like your designation, didn’t feel that it fit, there was no recourse for you other than a few pills a day and hoping for the best. Even magic couldn’t touch one’s designation; Castiel and Jack had fast realised that. It was an inextricable thing.

So, the tail and ears were permanent. Permanent fixtures Dean was finding increasingly difficult to deal with, and after twenty minutes of discreetly staring across the table at Castiel, watching him idly touch his ears and thumb through newspapers in search of cases, Dean decided he wasn’t going to be able to get anything done with Castiel present. He gathered his police radio transcripts into a pile and stood from his chair, hurrying to finish reading them in the peace of his bedroom. There was a promise of a case in the page he was currently on. Something that sounded like a monster attack- or maybe a bear, but he was pretty sure bears weren’t smart enough to open a cabin door and tear someone to shreds on a top floor.

He sunk into his mattress and resumed reading, trying to keep his mind off feather-soft fur and the equally as compelling curl of a tail.

Which would have been a lot easier had Castiel not appeared at his door, standing in the doorway with his ears twitching and that long, graceful tail of his flicking across the ground. Dean had to bite back a curse. Not something he bothered to do often, but he didn’t want Castiel to get the impression he didn’t want to see him; not when this whole… omega revelation had already made things tense between Castiel and the rest of the bunker occupants, courtesy of the rest of them being alpha’s.

An omega stuck in a building full of alpha’s. It sounded like something out of a porno.

“Dean,” said Castiel from the doorway, stepping in without further preamble. “May I join you?”

Dean blinked at him. “What?”

“On the bed,” he said, coming to stand at the end of it, his tail curling around his thigh to rest light on the mattress. “May I?”

“I, uh…” Dean pushed his transcripts into a neat pile and set them aside, peering curiously up at Castiel. “You want to use my bed? Is this is- is it an omega thing? You want to… nest in my scent or something?” He had heard omega’s benefited from suffusing themselves in alpha’s scents. Generally, those to which they were mated, but family was also a source of comfort, and they’d considered themselves family for well over a decade now.

Castiel shook his head. “With you in it. I want you to touch my ears.”

The ability to speak abandoned Dean. His mouth was open and attempting to form words, but he was unable to get out more than a few, useless syllables. Castiel was patient, standing in waiting until Dean had recovered enough to respond.

“Cas.” He dragged himself further up his bed, propping his shoulders against the shelf. “Just because I was staring... you don’t have to do that. I’ll get over it.” He cleared his throat. “My curiosity, I mean. You just don’t see a lot of omega’s around.”

“Because they tend to be kept inside,” said Castiel. “I know.”

Castiel circled around to Dean’s side, standing so close now that Dean could almost feel the heat radiating off him. How warm would his ears be-?

“You _really_ don’t have to do this, Cas,” he insisted, but Castiel just lowered himself to the mattress and tilted his head toward Dean. His ears tipped with the movement, pointing like twin arrows toward Dean, and Christ, Mary, Chuck, it was _adorable_. That wasn't a word he thought he’d ever apply to another man, but there was really no other for it.

“I’m inviting you to, Dean. Frankly, I suspect I've been thinking about you touching them just as much as you have.”

Dean didn’t know where to begin with processing Castiel’s remark. He blinked stupidly, unable to think up a response.

In a rare display of nerves, Castiel curled and uncurled his hands in his lap, casting his eyes down at his knees. “It would be a relief for both of us to indulge this so we can move past it,” said Castiel.

“I mean.” Dean licked his lips. “If that’s what you want?”

“I do,” said Castiel, and the breathless quality of his voice had Dean’s pulse thrumming madly in his throat. There was no mistaking that for anything but eagerness.

If he stroked them once, Dean wasn’t sure he would be able to compel himself to stop, but with Castiel so willing and those stunning ears so close, what little resolve he had left crumbled. He reached out, and the moment he made contact with that thinly layered fur, he was struck by how plush it was, like threading one’s fingers through the clouds that existed purely in one’s imagination. He slid his fingers slowly up to the tapered end of the ear and continued to marvel at the plush of it, then ventured back down, settling into a gentle, exploratory rhythm. The warmth it radiated was just as pleasant as he’d imagined, and he was enthralled by the way each stroke of his hand made the ear twitch and droop.

“Dean,” said Castiel, his voice thick, and Dean dragged his eyes with difficulty away from the crown of Castiel's head. “My other ear.”

“Oh. Right.” Dean reached up with his opposite hand, closing it around the base of Castiel’s remaining ear and beginning to stroke in tandem. Fixated as he was, it took him several minutes to realise Castiel had drawn himself up onto the bed, tilting further and further into Dean’s personal space. Dean didn’t really mind. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t sat on this bed together before, and with Castiel’s nape in such close proximity to his nose, he could detect the faintest hint of his scent- that honey, earthy smell that had made Dean’s mouth water the first time he’d experienced it. He definitely wasn't about to complain about that. 

He breathed it in, sinking deeper into the fuzzy comfort soft ears and a homely scent provided. There were few times he could recall being this comfortable. In a life as turbulent as his, it was a rare thing, and something he didn’t feel like he deserved, or could ever have. But those troubles weren’t bothering him right now, not when he had Castiel so warm and pliable beneath his hands.

The inside of Castiel’s ears were warmer and a little scratchy, but no less pleasant to touch for that. When he ventured there, those periodic twitches would come one after the other, rocking through the entire ear, so Dean gathered the inside was especially sensitive and kept contact with that area to a minimum.

After some minutes of stroking, he started threading his fingers into Castiel’s hair too, stroking idly along his scalp before returning to his ears. It was then that the noise started. A soft, breathy thing at first, before it grew into a soft rumble, not unlike the tapering thrum of an engine. The shock of it momentarily stilled Dean, but he quickly recovered when Castiel began bumping his head insistently into his palm.

Purring omega’s. He'd known that they could, of course, but he’d never had the pleasure of hearing one before now, and nor had he expected it to be so damn easy to draw out. From what he’d heard, it required a deep sense of security, comfort, affection, _love_ \- and Dean swallowed at the implication of him being those things for Castiel before he pushed them to the back of his mind. Right now, he was happy, he was content, and there would be time to address those things when they both weren’t busy puddling on Dean’s bed.

It didn’t take long for Castiel to sink so low that he was practically lying across Dean’s chest, his head a bare inch from settling on Dean’s shoulder. It was an awkward position, so Dean slid an arm up around Castiel’s back, drawing him down until he’d closed what little space remained between them. Castiel seemed happy to go wherever Dean directed him, tucking his face in the gap between Dean’s head and shoulder, his head warm against Dean’s jaw and his purrs reverberating through to Dean’s chest.

Dean closed his eyes, enjoying Cas’ soft fur and the curls of his hair and the barest traces of his scent, sinking into them like one would a hot bath on a winter’s day. He wasn’t sure how long they languished there. Time was lost to them, and who knows how long they might have simply indulged in each other’s company if not for Sam peeking in and gasping at the sight of them.

Apparently he did have some capacity for embarrassment left in him, since he felt the barest traces of heat touch his cheeks when he saw Sam staring at them _cuddling_ from the doorway. As gently as was possible, he dislodged from Castiel, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

When he went to explain himself, a hapless ‘uh’ was all he managed to get out.

“Right, um,” Sam offered back, and they probably would have continued on this way for at least a few minutes if not for Castiel interrupting.

“Did you find a case, Sam?” Castiel asked, quite at ease.

“Yeah,” said Sam, awkwardly rubbing a hand along his nape. “There was a guy murdered in a cabin, and, uh. I thought it looked suspect. We don’t have to leave right away if you’re-”

Dean threw up his hands. “Say no more. I saw the same thing. We’ll head there now.”

“I’ll... go and grab Jack, then,” said Sam, making a quick departure.

Dean rose from the bed and straightened his shirt, which had managed to become hitched just above his hip by Castiel’s weight. It didn’t evade his notice that Castiel’s eyes dropped to what little skin was visible before he covered it.

They were definitely going to need to confront that at some point. Ideally with him kissing Castiel, Castiel kissing back, and then him fucking Castiel into the mattress while stroking the _hell_ out of those ears again. Though Castiel would probably want some sort of verbal communication as well, and he wasn’t looking forward to stumbling his way through that part after spending the better part of a decade refusing to interact with his attraction to Castiel. He'd been convinced that Castiel would never return it, _couldn’t_ return it, but evidently he’d been wrong about that.

As much as he would have liked to do at least the kissing part now, they had a job to do, and he could always concoct fantasies of ravaging Castiel on the long drive to their destination.

“Right,” he said, drawing close to Castiel to idle a hand along his tail. Castiel rumbled in appreciation, and it took all Dean’s self-control not to grin like a fool. “Let’s go.”


End file.
